


under my umbrella (ella ella)

by callmearcturus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Post MAG186, basically: Jon gets to have two boyfriends for a while and its fun, mention of sexy stuff but no explicit stuff, no feet apart bc they are gay, true love is pestering your boyfriend with your second identical self, two martin's in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus
Summary: Martin and Martin search for Jon.Jon is found.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 241





	under my umbrella (ella ella)

**Author's Note:**

> flaaaaaashfiiiiiiiic.
> 
> also fuck you zyka i did name it this

It was a very poetic thing, to love the rain. Or Martin always thought so. It had so many daisy chain poignancies. The way the drops struck him awake when they landed. The feeling of rivulets running down his face, cleansing away the remnants of the wider world. The way being waterlogged made him feel heavy and purposeful with his steps. And, yes, the soft relief of hot tea amid the pattering noise. Even if the tea itself wasn't fabulous.

But eventually, as he walked through this landscape of white noise and grey clouds, his other pulled an umbrella out from behind his back, and offered it.

"Ah," Martin said, taking the umbrella. It was a big one, had heft in his hand. "About that time?"

"Seems about right," Martin said, squinting at the horizon. "Hm. I think that way?"

Martin looked as well, and felt it; someone else in his space, sticking out like splinter. "Yeah, seems so," he agreed. Opening the umbrella, he managed a small smile; the outside was dour black, but the inner canopy was a pale green. "How'd he get himself so lost?"

"You know him," Martin said with a sideways glance. "Remember the Lonely?"

A smile stole over Martin's face. "I thought it was very sweet."

"Him, tromping around the beach, yelling constantly? What was he doing?" A shiver of laughter moves through Martin's voice.

"His best," Martin says, before laughing as well. "He's not made for these places."

Martin let out a hum, tilting his head. "Oh? I mean, he was very afraid of being forgotten, back in the day. Afraid of being a mystery."

Squinting a bit, Martin said, "Dunno if that's Lonely so much as Beholding. Which, I have both, of course, but…"

"Primary type, Lonely. Secondary type, Beholding," he said. "There's a joke in there."

"I didn't expect this to be the plot of the British Pokemon game."

Martin rolled his eyes. "God, what I wouldn't do for a little play time. I miss the— the overstuffed armchair from my first apartment." He looks around at the empty, vaguely gothic landscape. "Don't suppose I can form a chair from the mist and heather and my own emotional miasma?"

"Do you want to stay?"

Martin sighed loudly. "Yeah, but  _ no." _ He tipped his chin up. "There he is."

There was a fond note to Martin's voice as he said, "There he is."

Around some artfully mossy rocks, glistening from drops of rain, was Jon, his arms wrapped tight around himself, his hair plastered to his skin, a very Heathcliff-y look in his hooded eyes. "Martin, there you are, I—"

Jon stopped, peering between Martin and Martin for a moment. A sheen flashed over his eyes, like a cat in the night, that strange reflective glow… before he nodded. "Ah."

Lifting a hand, Martin waved. Beside him, Martin tutted and lifted the umbrella higher. "Look like you've been fished out of the Thames."

"You don't want to know what lurks in the Thames these days," Jon murmured, cautiously stepping in, under the umbrella. His eyes couldn't seem to settle, flicking from Martin to Martin. "Are you… it seems strange to ask if you're alright, given the, ah, circumstances."

"I'm fine," Martin said.

"Well enough, at least," Martin added, reaching up to move Jon's hair from his forehead, behind his ear. "How about you, you good? Need any… time?"

"No, no, I already," Jon gestured vaguely, then tucked his hands against his sides. "Took care of it." He wet his lip. "I don't mean to pry but, why are you two people?"

"Sort of a personal question," Martin said, wrinkling his nose.

Immediately, Jon wilted. "Oh, sorry, I, ah—"

"I'm messing with you," Martin said, shooting his other self a grin. "No, it's just, you know. Had to talk some stuff out. Who better to sort through my feelings with than myself?"

Jon's eyebrows did some incredible movement as he considered this. "That… is a level of exteriority— or, is it interiority?"

Martin tucked himself under the umbrella more fully, cheating in around Jon. "Oh, stop."

There really wasn't a lot of space with the three of them, and Jon swayed, resting a hand on Martin's shoulder to balance. His attention cut between them, a flush across his cheeks. "Should we be going?"

"Is that a question?" Martin asked, smiling.

"As opposed to…?" Martin asked, also smiling.

Slowly, Jon took a deep breath, and exhaled. "This is very strange."

"Is it?" Martin leaned in. "What are you thinking about, Jon?"

"Oh, now  _ you _ stop," Jon groused. "It's— it's obviously, it's interesting, in an objective, academic sort of way." He sighed out his nose. "My boyfriend gains regionalized, semi-absolute power, and he goes and duplicates himself."

"Objective," Martin said, resting a hand on Jon's lower back.

"All very  _ academic," _ Martin said. leaning in close to Jon's face. As he kept hold of the umbrella, he managed to sort of sandwich Jon in, which was apparently quite distracting. Jon kept turning his head to try and track the other Martin behind him.

Cupping Jon's jaw, Martin put a stop to that, guiding him in for a kiss, a simple press of their mouths. On the other side, Martin wrapped his arms around Jon, leaning into him, pressing him more firmly between them.

An almost hysterical laugh escaped Jon's mouth as he reached down, folded his hands around Martin's, and opened his mouth to the kiss. "This is, uh."

Martin pressed his mouth to Jon's ear and shushed him, leaning him further into Martin's chest, reaching down to slide his hands under Jon's jumper, pressing his fingertips into Jon's belly.

Between them, it was pretty fast. Jon didn't seem to have the wherewithal to keep up, and as Martin touched him, he just spooled apart like that, standing there, leaning in and kissing Martin with a charming lack of coordination. When he shuddered through an easy orgasm, Jon's knees nearly buckled; Martin held him up, and nuzzled into his damp, slightly frizzy hair.

After, Jon rubbed his face, turning.

There was only Martin, who let out a soft noise. "Shame. That was sort of fun. At last, someone on my level, you know?"

With a snort, Jon rapped his knuckles lightly against Martin's shoulder, and bent to kiss him again. "Rain's easing. May we have safe passage from this place?"

"I guess," Martin said, resting the umbrella against his shoulder and setting off. "But only 'cuz you're cute."


End file.
